


S6 E3 Third Day Story

by JDPostEpisodeChallenge



Series: Josh & Donna Post Episode Challenge [7]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 16:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDPostEpisodeChallenge/pseuds/JDPostEpisodeChallenge
Summary: Post Ep by SeaDog11





	S6 E3 Third Day Story

The cab ride from Bethesda Naval to Georgetown is just over 25 minutes. On the one hand it's giving me some time to think and decompress from everything that's happened today, but on the other hand I want this ride to be over so that I can be with Donna. We've all had a long day, but out of anyone, she's had the longest, not including Leo. Leo . . . I can't help the sad sigh that escapes me. Seeing him lying there was just . . . I don't even know what to think. I always thought he was invincible- that nothing could touch Leo McGarry. But like C.J. said, anyone who thinks these jobs don't come at a cost . . .

God, we need Leo. Today was a nightmare without him. All the President wanted was a unanimous Security Council vote and I couldn't even get him that. Instead, we managed to lose the support of three countries in an hour, made a mess with the tax cut and peacekeeping estimate, and dug a hole with Congress on the whole child tax credit thing. Thank God for NATO endorsing the Peace Accord. And I can't stop thinking about how Leo didn't want the urgent to crowd out the important. That absolutely feels like today. Everything urgent seemed to crowd out Donna and I hate it.

I should have delegated things better and been more attentive to her. Maybe she didn't even want to come back to work yet; I just assumed because I need her there. God, that was selfish of me . . . and on top of that I was demanding today. She was trying to catch up, jet-lagged, and on pain medication, hell she was probably in pain! But there I go bellowing orders at her: telling her to get me the Democratic Whip, asking if the Democratic leadership called about Benoit . . . and I can't shake the image of how tired she looked today, and so quiet. She looked thin, thin and frail. I hate to say that she looked frail, but she did and I can't help but think that it's my fault. I sent her to a warzone and she got hurt.

I'm also incredibly disappointed in myself for what I did when I brought her to the White House today. We were there for less than a minute and I abandoned her in the hallway and forgot to come back. I ran off and did whatever it was that I thought was so damn important at the time. But nothing is more important to me than her, nothing. I need to remember to tell her that. I shouldn't have left her in the hallway. I've been her boyfriend for less than a week and I'm already screwing it up. I know she didn't want me to wheel her around, but I wanted to wheel her around. I love her, I will do anything for her. She knows that.

But the worst part about today was that I yelled at her. Sure my anger wasn't directed at her, but that doesn't change the fact that she was on the receiving end of my nasty tone. The look on her face as she just blinked at me. I scared her. I didn't meant to, but I did. And I think she was surprised to find herself scared too. I wanted to hold her, tell her I'm sorry . . . I need to remember to not raise my voice for a while. She's been through a lot, and you never know what random act, sound, or phrase will affect someone who just experienced trauma. Me of all people, should know that. She recovered fairly quickly from my outburst though, telling me to send the pizza bill to the president of Turkmenistan-giving me that smile of hers. She also told me I would look cute in a toga and a dog collar. And oh how she brought the wise ass- telling me that she feels like one of those soviet premiers who has secretly been dead for ten years. She's so sassy. God, I just love her.

We also had our little moment in my office, when I gave her the pen that the Prime Minister used at the peace signing. God knows I would have loved to have given her a ring right then and there, but that's around the corner, when she's feeling better. Of course, she shoots herself down by saying she had nothing to do with the peace agreement, but I could tell that the pen made her happy, that quick smile on her face. It didn't reach her eyes, but smiles aren't going to reach her eyes for a while. She was a blood donor for this peacekeeping mission, I wasn't kidding about that. I should be on my knees thanking every O-negative blood donor out there . . . one of the rarest blood types. Like I told her, I want to stop taking those for granted.

As I get out of the cab, I start thinking about what's next. The press will be pretty rough on the third and fourth day stories surrounding the tax plan and peacekeeping agreement. But I quickly remind myself that I'm not worrying about any of that right now. Instead, I'm walking up the stairs to my apartment, because she's been waiting patiently for me. She gets all of my attention tonight, I don't care how many briefs I have to read and I don't care who gets named Chief of Staff. I can care tomorrow. I can care about everything else tomorrow. The urgent is taking a backseat to the important this evening.

I nod at the agent outside my door. They assigned one to Donna for a few weeks; I'm grateful for that. Protocol is a little different, they aren't sweeping my apartment before I go in. A lot of it is so the press leaves her alone. She's been home less than twenty-four hours and they're already hounding her for a story. She doesn't need this right now. I have no issues removing anyone's credentials if they don't knock it off.

I fumble for my keys momentarily, until I'm finally able to open the door. I'm a little shaky from the whole "no junk bet" I have going with CJ. My body is in desperate need of sugar, but all those thoughts disappear from my mind when I see Donna on the couch curled up as best she can with her leg elevated on a pillow. Even from the door I can tell she's been crying, and I hate that I wasn't here to stop her tears. She has a fistful of tissues balled up in her hand, covering her mouth. There's a large cup of coffee on the table and the TV is on, but she's not watching it.

I drop my bag and rush to her, tearing my coat off in the process, kneeling in front of her. I don't give a damn how much my knees protest. "What's wrong Donna?" I ask quietly while stroking her hair back. I'm searching her watery eyes intently with my own. "You can talk to me baby." The term of endearment rolls off my tongue naturally. Later, we will see if it sticks. It works for now, so I'm going with it.

"Josh," she says, barely discernible.

The way she says my name causes my chest to constrict painfully and I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. She's in pain. "Yeah?" I ask, never taking my eyes off hers.

"This is the first time I've been alone since the bombing, and it's the first time I've had time to think clearly and I'm . . . I'm . . . I'm so overwhelmed Josh." Her voice chokes and my hands are instantly on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears. We haven't had our first real kiss yet, but that doesn't stop me from gently kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks. I just want to take away the hurt.

"What do you need right now to feel better?" I'm just going to be direct, that's what I responded to best when I was recovering from Rosslyn.

"I just need you, Josh."

"I'm right here Donnatella. I'm not going anywhere." She nods her head in understanding. Leaning forward, I take her in my arms and hold her as best I can. She's still curled in a ball and I don't want to hurt her leg, but I feel her hold me tight, so I squeeze a little tighter, careful of the incision on her chest. We stay like that for a few minutes, and her breathing starts to even out. I pull back for a moment to look at her. I didn't expect this to be the moment we share our first kiss, but it feels right, so I lean forward and gently place my lips on hers for the first time. It's soft and it's perfect and it's how two people who have been in love for years kiss when one person wants the other person to feel better.

She looks at me and her smile reaches her eyes. I thought it might be a while until I saw that smile again, but here it is, overwhelming me in the best possible way. She gently cups my face with her hand and her touch feels incredible, it soothes my soul and makes me feel whole. I match her smile and give her another soft kiss, then whisper, "You wanna lay down together in my bedroom? Try to get some sleep?"

"K, Josh." She yawns and I can see just how tired she really is.

"You want me to pick you up?" I'm nervous to pick her up, I don't know how to support her leg and I don't want to hurt her, but I will try to carry her if she asks.

"Mmm that's okay. You might hurt your back. Colonel Leahy said I could use crutches for short durations, so just hand those to me and help me off the couch please," she gives me that smile of hers. She's feeling a little better and that makes me unbelievably happy.

With my hand on the small of her back I guide her into my bedroom. I quickly turn down the sheets and help her into bed. With as much finesse as I can, I carefully lift her leg onto a pillow.

"Does your leg feel okay?"

"Mmmhmmm. Thank you." She yawns again. She's not going to make it much longer.

I shed my dress shirt and pants, and clad in my undershirt and boxers, I climb into bed. Donna has to sleep on her back so it's a little more difficult to hold each other. So I lay on my side and my hand finds its way to her stomach and rests there gently. I can't help it when the vision comes to my mind of me doing this a few years from now, but my hand is resting protectively over our unborn son or daughter. I smile and welcome the thought. I cannot wait to make a baby with this woman. I smile at that thought too, it came out of nowhere. But if I'm honest with myself, deep down I have always known that Donna and I would have a family together someday.

"Is this okay Donna? Are you comfortable with this?" I ask while I nod to my hand on her stomach. She responds with a smile as she lays her hand on top of mine, our fingers lacing together.

"It's perfect Joshua, this is exactly what I needed tonight. Thank you." Her eyes are fluttering and my heart skips a beat at how reverently she whispered my full name.

"You're welcome. Let me know if you need anything, just wake me up, k?"

"K, Josh."

"G'night Donna, I love you."

"Good night, I love you too Josh," I see her smile and my heart soars. I give her a kiss on the cheek and settle down, snuggling into her side gently. This is the closest we've ever been. In Germany, I pulled two chairs together and slept in them. But that all changed after her emergency operation. I still remember walking into the operating room and reading her notes:

Nice hat!

Scared

I love you.

I certainly remember how I felt: conflicting emotions. I was in pain, because she was scared. And I was scared, because she had a blood clot. I was anxious, because I didn't know if her declaration was friendship love or something more. But I took one look into those deep, blue eyes and I knew exactly what "I love you" meant. It meant she felt the same way I did. And after that realization, I definitely remember asking Colonel Leahy if I could kiss her. He told me I'd have to wait until after surgery. And of course, of course I remember stroking her hand and telling her that I was in love with her. I made her promise to tell me again when she woke up.

And she did. After she called out to me, and after I told her I was still here, she told me again, "I love you, Joshua Lyman. You told me to tell you that again when I woke up." I remember tucking the covers around her, and sitting on the edge of her bed. I remember caressing her cheek and telling her how much I love her. For the next two nights I slept in a chair with my head on the side of her hospital bed, our hands clasped together. I remember I didn't want to spend a moment away from her.

I remember everything.

I snuggle a little closer to her, careful to be gentle against her healing body. She looks cute in my faded Yale Law t-shirt and my plaid pajama pants. She's already asleep and I can't help but watch her, to be protective of her. And if she wakes up from a bad dream, if she finds that her nightmares have followed her home, all she has to do is look to her left and she'll see that I'm still here.


End file.
